Isn't It Ironic?
by TotallyNonchalantFBI
Summary: After a revolutionary moment in Potions, Draco begins to realize that there may be more to Hermione than he thought. But when you burn your bridges the way Draco has, you're left with smoke, not hope.
1. Insults

**Well hello there, dear readers. This is not my first fanfiction, but this is my first Harry Potter one. While I have read all the books, many times, with extreme dedication, it's so much different to have to write for them, while in character, than to read the books. So please review, and tell me what you think. Did I do good by the characters? Bad plot? Way off? Constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as praise, naturally XD. Well thank you for reading, and please review! Love you all!**

Draco lifted an eyebrow. Granger was sitting across from him in the Potions dungeon, muttering to herself. Frizzy brown hair spilled over her shoulder, and her dry face was scrunched up, following her finger as it ran down the text of the Potion's textbook. It was the perfect opportunity for a joke. A snappy one liner, something about Granger being a Mudblood warthog, or how she'll die alone. The possibilities are truly endless.

He nudged Goyle next to him, and pointed to Granger. "Look at Granger, she's reading that book as if it contained advice to find a boyfriend. As if it could possibly help a Mudblood like her."

Goyle chortled, his fat body shook as he sniggered. Crabbe snorted, his voice catching in his throat. A few other Slytherins overheard what he said and laughed along with him them, trying to muffle their laugher as if they actually cared about Granger's feelings.

Hermione either didn't hear what Malfoy said, or didn't care, for she chopped up the liver of a dragon as finely as the book dictated, and used the back of her knife to slide it into the caldron beside her.

"_Well_," Draco said louder. "It could be worse. Granger may die alone, but at least some poor man doesn't have to suffer!" he exchanged high fives with Crabbe and Goyle, smiling for he found instigation to be a fine art, one that was his medium.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry snapped, annoyance seeping into his voice along with anger.

"Focus, Potter, ten points from Gryffindor." Snape drawled, licking his thumb and flipping to the next page in his book.

Malfoy looked over at Potter, who had gripped his knife so hard his knuckles turned white, slamming it down on the dragon liver, as if it was Snape's face. Draco chuckled.

Draco decided that it was time to push the envelope some more; see how far he can get. "What puzzles me," he began, tapping his chin as if he was pensive in thought. "Is how anyone can tell the difference between a dragon and Granger. But I have finally separated the distinction. One is scaly, hideous, fire – breathing, and slow – witted, and the other is a dragon."

The Slytherins burst out in laughter, a mix of high – pitched squeals, snickers, shorts, and chortles. Snape himself smiled a bit, though it did not reach his eyes. The Gryffindors, however, were disgusted. Harry slammed his knife down harder on the cutting board, exhaling loudly as if his anger would go with it. Seamus put down his knife and glowered at Malfoy.

Ron leaned forward in his seat, resting an elbow on the table, point the knife at Malfoy's rat – like head. "I'm warning you Malfoy," he said, his voice was not much higher than a whisper, but it was low, hissing, and dangerous. The room was silent to listen to him. "Do _not_ saying anything against her. Or you _will_ regret it."

"Weasley." Snape drawled again, flipping another page in his book. "I cannot allow threats in my classroom. Fifty points from Gryffindor."

Ron turned red from anger. "Do you not see what Malfoy is doing to her? He's horrible! Punish _him_, you toad!"

"That's enough Weasley!" Snape said, a bit a twang still in his voice, but it was covered with anger. "Do not talk back to me! Detention, after classes today!"

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but apparently decided against it. He went back to his potion and pureed mushrooms with more force than anyone had seen him use before.

Hermione still said nothing.

At first, Draco decided that he had won today's battle, and went back to his potion. He didn't want to lose favor with Snape. Oh, who was he kidding? Snape could never lose his favor for Draco. They were on the same side, the _winning_ side, now weren't they?

But still, Draco would need some serious thought to top his last comment, and the best way to disguise the fact that he had to _think_ about his scathing, anti – Mudblood comments was looking like he was actually doing his schoolwork. Everyone still thought that Draco did not lie awake at night, thinking of Potter's, Granger's, and Weasley's weak points, and comments to slowly tear them down from the inside. But he did, and there's no way in hell he would let anyone else know about that. The embarrassment would never end – Potter and his company would make sure of that!

_Okay, think Draco. How can you not have something? There is literally a bubbling caldron of jokes surrounding her. Her frizzy brown hair, her dull brown eyes, she __is__ looking a little chubby, she'll die alone, she's a Mudblood, He – who – must – not – be – named will surely dispose of her the first second he sees her…think! Ugh! Why don't I have anything?_

_Okay, focus on one thing. That's the problem. There's too much to choose from. You're overwhelmed. That's all. Focus on her weight. That's a sensitive issue for most women. Okay, looking fat. She's fat because she eats too much. She eats too much because she's unhappy with her inferior life. Oh, how come I can't think of anything! Oh wait, oh wait, what else does she do? Read! She's a nerd, a bookworm, she reads too much. That's all she does._

"Hey Granger!" Malfoy said, tilting his chair back a bit. "Here's me thinking you were too much of a goody – goody to steal. But alas, I was wrong. You're clearly trying to smuggle a few textbooks underneath your shirt there. No one's stomach bulges out that much. Not at your age. A pitiful attempt, really."

The Slytherins laughed harder, putting down their tools and ingredients, dedicating all of their energy to reveling in the fact that, _once again_, Granger had been taken down by Draco. They rocked back and forth, touching each other's arms and repeating lines.

"Not naturally!"

Laughter.

"No one's stomach bulges out that much!"

Laughter.

"Smuggling textbooks!"

Laughter.

Hermione still said nothing, focusing on her potion, which was turning the proper shade of pine -tree green.

"And here's me thinking you couldn't be any more of a _git_, Malfoy. Guess _I_ was wrong too!" Ron yelled, slamming a fist down on the table, sending ripples across the top of his purple - ish potion, and different ingredients off the top of the table and onto the dusty floor.

"Oh _do_ calm down, Weasley." Draco said, his voice drawling and swaggering. "When you get agitated, you breathe more. Our air is contaminated enough as it is, we don't need any more wasted by blood – traitors such as yourself."

Ron turned red easily, but it usually stayed in his cheeks, and sometimes spread to his forehead. But Ron was furious, and by holding in the level of anger that he was, the red tint of his skin spread to the tips of his ears, and down his neck. Overall, he somewhat resembled a fire hydrant.

He didn't calm down much; the tint just disappeared from the very tips of his ears. But he said nothing else and went pack to squishing caterpillars with a large mallet. Draco smiled and chuckled to himself. The image was comedy itself; Weasley taking out his anger on the small bugs. Not to mention Weasley looked pretty amusing holding a mallet. With his left hand so close to the poor caterpillars, Draco crossed his fingers and hoped Weasley would accidently hit his own caterpillar – like fingers.

Draco smirked and went back to his potion. He was on top, as if he belonged anywhere else. He reached for a container of beetle powder and sprinkled it over his bright blue potion like sprinkles on a cupcake. Now today had been an especially excellent day. The Gryffindors were practically drowning in a pool of their own pride, while the Slytherins floated on by on some type of yacht.

But Draco wasn't satisfied with being on top. He couldn't just let it be. He stirred his potion, slower and more than the book called for. Then again, he didn't really have to follow the book. Snape would give him top marks no matter what he did. He was Draco Malfoy. While stirring, he had time to think. What could he say? He had to have something else to say, his last hurrah. Class would be ending in just a few moments, so there wasn't much time to think.

Now he had already picked on her weight, her looks, and made a few quiet jabs at her less – than – promising romantic future. Maybe that's where he could strike again. For a last jab, you couldn't pick on something little, you had to find their biggest fault, biggest insecurity, and drive it home.

But then again, Weasley had disrespected him as well, several times throughout the class. And while he had received detention, it was from Snape. Draco needed to show Weasley that he couldn't talk to him like that, not without consequences.

_Think Draco, this is a once in a lifetime shot. Remember, she's going to die alone, no one will have to endure her._

"Well I suppose Weasley lucked out." Malfoy added as a last shot. "He's the only one stupid enough to marry someone like Granger."

Hermione finally added to the conversation, with a sharp intake of breath. She stood up from her chair, grabbed the potions book and rushed out of the classroom, small pearly tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

Everyone froze as they watched her abscond. As soon as she was gone, all the Gryffindor turned to look at Draco, whispering comments amongst themselves. _I can't believe he made her cry! Poor Hermione! I do believe Draco just out – douched himself._

The Slytherins whispered approving comments to Draco. _Good job, one less Mudblood stinking up the place. Who grabs a BOOK when they run out of the room? Nice one! Surprised Weasley didn't start sobbing first, though._

Normally Draco would be reveling in the approving comments of his fellow Slytherins, but not this time. He watched in silence as Hermione ran out of the room, _crying_, with a swish of auburn hair the last vision of her, her knapsack the only evidence that she was just there.

Draco gulped and whispered, so quietly that he himself could barely hear, "I'm…sorry."


	2. Malfoy's Regret

**So how are you guys all doing? I really don't have anything to say, so you might as well fill in for me, if you don't mind. XD Well, please review! Hours to write, minutes to review!**

Hermione raced out of the room, headed to the one place she knew best, the beginning tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, landing on her sweater. As soon as she stood face – to – face with the baroque wooden doors of the library, she knew she couldn't go there. For one thing, that's where everyone would expect her to go. And she didn't want her friends chasing after her. For another thing, she needed to cry, loudly. And there must be absolute silence in the library.

So she turned away and headed in the opposite direction, headed to the one place where she could cry and scream and yell as loudly as she wanted, without being interrupted by anyone – Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

She pushed open the metal door and collapsed on the floor, sliding down the wall. Guttural sobs broke her voice, as tears poured down her cheeks, making them ruddy and dry. She buried her head in the thick material of her plaid skirt, trying to dry them as quickly as they came. She looked up and sniffed, wiping her now red eyes on the wooly material of her sweater.

Still, the tears poured.

The second Ron saw Hermione run out of the room, he wanted to chase after her. But he was in some sort of trance, some level of shock, that kept him glued to his seat. He stared into his bubbling potion, little wisps of smoke circling on top of it, like the auburn curls in Hermione's hair.

The second the bell rang, Ron was shaken out of his reverie. He stood up, almost forgetting his knapsack, but grabbing it at the last second. He left behind his ingredients, [Mum wouldn't be happy, those were expensive] and his potion book, but Harry grabbed that. Ron raced out of the room before anyone else could get their stuff together, chased after Hermione.

Where would she go? Knowing Hermione, probably the library. No, no she wouldn't. She was already crying, and when Hermione cried, she cried hard. She wouldn't dare disturb the sacred quiet of the library. No, she'd go somewhere else. Maybe the common room? No, it was between classes for the oldest and youngest years. She wouldn't want an audience.

She'd go to the bathroom, where she went the first time Ron had seen her cry. But this time she'd go to the most secret bathroom. Moaning Myrtle's. Ron took off in a sprint, running to Hermione.

He leaned his shoulder against the metal door and pushed it in. "Hermione? Are you in here?"

He heard sobs and sniffles, and looked to his right. There was Hermione, curled up in a little ball against the wall. Ron frowned a little, his stomach unsettled at the thought of her pain.

"Hey, Hermione?" he said, walking over to her. He only had one little sister, and she never cried. He wasn't sure how to handle crying women. He sat down next to her, putting his hands in his lap as he stretched out his legs. "Don't believe anything Malfoy says. He's a git."

Hermione cried harder. But she lifted her head up, wiping her eyes on her lint – covered sweater. "No, no he's right. That's what he is. He's right."

"What?" Ron said, as if he couldn't believe anyone, especially Hermione, would ever believe something Malfoy spit out. "How could you possibly believe him? He's an idiot!"

"Well Malfoy is a git, I will give you that." Hermione said, causing Ron to chuckle a little to himself. "But he's right. I am fat, and ugly, and no one will ever love me!" her voice wavered on the last few words, her lower lip wobbling.

"Don't believe that! That's the farthest thing from the truth!" Ron said, grabbing her hand.

Hermione gasped a little, breath catching in her throat. She squeezed Ron's hand a little at first, but then her hand went limp, as she looked away from him. She breathed hard, her breath coming in and out in gasps as she looked down at her lap, trying to regain some composure over herself. Still holding his hand, she looked back over at Ron. "He's right. That's all. Ron, I'm sixteen and I've never had a boyfriend! Not a real one, I never really dated Viktor. The whole time he was here, I liked someone else." She looked down at her lap again. "I'm not pretty, I'm too snarky. I won't ever find someone. I'll just…never be loved." Tears began to spill out of her chocolate brown eyes again. She rolled her head up, looking at the molding ceiling, in an futile effort to keep the tears inside.

"That's absolutely not true!" Ron yelled, gripping her hand tighter. Hermione sighed and looked away from him, letting her shoulders roll back in defeat. "Don't you dare let him get to you! This is just what he's been doing for the past six years! All he does is try to push and push and push and try to instigate a fight. Like a little child with their siblings."

"But if it was just him, do you think I would be this upset?" Hermione spat, mostly at herself, letting her legs slide forward. "That's just the thing! It's not just him! Did you not see all the Slytherins in the class? They were laughing right along with him, as if he was the funniest man in the world!"

"They're Slytherins." Ron said, quickly squeezing Hermione's hand. "Who gives a damn what they think? They're all just jealous."

Hermione laughed without humor. "Yeah, that's what they are." She rolled her eyes and leaned back, muttering "_Jealous_. Ha! "

"Look at me, Hermione." Ron said. Hermione sighed, obliging, however unwillingly.

"Ron, he's right. I've just been kidding myself." Hermione said, a few tears dripping out of her eyes again.

"No Hermione, he's wrong." Ron said with firmness. "You're better than any of them, all of them! You're the best girl I've ever met."

Hermione smiled at him and leaned into his chest. "That's really sweet, Ron." She sighed, looking up again in an effort to stop any more tears. How had she not run out of tears by now? "But look at me. I'm lucky I have the friends I have!"

"Hermione, Draco only got one thing right." Ron said, wrapping his arms around her.

"What?" Hermione said, mumbling into Ron's expertly knit sweater.

"I'm the only one stupid enough to like you." Ron chuckled to himself, tilting Hermione's head up.

Hermione gasped a little, but was silenced by Ron's lips pressing against hers. Ron hugged her tighter and Hermione seemed to get a grip on herself, kissing him back. In a desperate need for air, they broke away. Ron hugged Hermione closer to him, he didn't think that it was possible, but it was. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arm.

Now despite what anyone may have thought of her, Hermione was a romantic at heart. In the corner of her schoolbook trunk, there were Muggle romance books. The cheap, cheesy ones, sold a dozen for a quarter at garage sales. Late at night, she would pull the deep red curtains of her four – poster bed together, hoping that no one would awaken and notice her, then she would whisper '_Lumos' _and read by wandlight, getting lost in the stories of brave men, courageous women, and happy endings.

Whenever there was a particularly important moment in the story, it would be punctuated by a kiss. A big one; it was the way the characters proclaimed their love for each other. But that kiss was not just a delight, it was also a weapon. Sometimes, it was used to proclaim their love in front of the world itself, warding off the evil forces that threatened their bliss. Sometimes it was used to show each other that they were repaired now, after their relationship had nearly fallen off the cliff it was already so perilously built on.

While Hermione was still a sensible, level – headed girl, and could go on without all the drama and scandal of a whirlwind romance. But more than anything, she wanted one of those kisses. One of those mine – blowing, head – over – heels – in – love kisses.

And she just got it.

It was not her fist kiss. After the Yule Ball, she had kissed Viktor, but that was a speck of dust in comparison to this. In that moment, they were unbounded. They were one person, stanch in their love only to each other.

She didn't want it to end.

It was his free period, and Draco couldn't go back to the Slytherin common room. He didn't think his stomach, or his heart, could take it.

Clustering a bunch of teenagers together meant that gossip would inevitably spread like wildfire. This phenomenon was magnified a thousand times within the houses, the best of friends spreading what they thought was the most important information in between each other.

Making Hermione Granger cry (and make her leave a classroom, an even more marvelous feat, not accomplished before this very day) was something all the Slytherins had been waiting for. Surely they would have been recounting it since morning, and every time it went from ear to ear, a slight exaggeration had been added.

Draco hadn't heard it yet, but Pansy was whispering the story to a younger Patricia. _'So did you hear what Draco said to Granger? He told her off so bad, and that pissed Ron off – the ginger one, you've seen him sliming up the halls. So, Ron tackled Draco!'_

'_No! Did he really?'_

'_Well he did, but that's only because Draco is prepared for magical combat, not barbarian fighting! But Draco threw him off, and Ron's nose ended up broken! But Hermione went off crying, probably because someone broke her precious Weasley.' _

Crying. Draco made Hermione leave the room _crying_. And she looked…she just looked so sad. The way she scrunched up her face as she left, trying to keep the tears in just before she broke out of the room, her little gasp.

To think about it, she was beautiful to begin with. Her wavy hair, her chocolate brown eyes. _Stop!_ An image of Hermione flooded his mind, the last glimpse he saw of her before she ran out of the room. Then came another image, the first time he saw her, in that first year, standing next to Harry Potter, her eyes piercing through him. Then came more images; classes, the Yule Ball, Hogsmeade.

He stopped and leaned against the cool stone of a wall, staring out the window, down at the passing students, laughing amongst themselves, clothed in black robes. He couldn't get her out of his mind! Why did he feel so horrible about what he did to her?

He had spent years tormenting the other students, making fun of those different than he. If you weren't a Slytherin Pureblood, then Draco had no business with you, no common ground you could possibly agree on. Due to his upstanding and powerful parents, he had the power to pick and choose the friends he wanted; burn the bridges he deemed unnecessary.

But how do you cross a bridge that's been burned? One mistake and you're carried away in the river's swift undertow. And there were plenty of mistakes to be made.

Draco decided that he had to try. He stuck his hands in the deep pockets of his expensively – tailored pants and looked down. As a precaution, he pulled his hood over his distinctive white – blond hair and tucked it around his lanky shoulders. He couldn't be pulled over by a fuming Gryffindor, or an approving Slytherin. Not now, not when he _got_ _it_. He needed to find Hermione.

He lifted his head up slightly and looked around, scanning the ornate stone halls for the long wavy brunette hair that Hermione carried distinctly. Finally he saw her face. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and still contained a light blush of red, but she was smiling, and giggling into her palm.

Walking next to hair was the lanky, red haired form of a boy who could only be a Weasley. Ron Weasley. And his arm was around Hermione. _Now_? Why now?

No, no he was surely getting worked up over nothing. They've been best friends since they met in year one. He was probably just comforting her. It's not as if there was any, _sparks_, to so say, in between them. She was laughing, but that's what friends do. Cheer each other up. Right?

So Draco cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice less of a drawl, urgency mixing in with ribbons of plead, "Hey! Hermione!"


	3. Woo

**So how you guys doing? Personally, I'm doing great. Watching A Very Potter Musical – again – and laughing my butt off. How what I would give to see that live…oh well…at least they put it on YouTube. No idea what I'm talking about? LOOK IT UP. One of the best things in existence. You don't go a minute without laughing, no joke. But I mean, read the chapter first. Then review. Then go look it up. XD**

**Haha, don't worry everyone! This is completely a Ron and Hermione story. I am so against the Draco / Hermione pair. But I still think it'd be interesting if he chased her, hence this story. So it's sort of a spoil, a little, but the pair on the front says Ron and Hermione, so I guess it's not **_**entirely**_** new information XD Well, tell me what you think. Review, please! **

"Hey, Hermione!"

Ron turned looked away from Hermione's now laughing face, and looked up at the rat - like face of Draco as he scurried towards them. Urgency had filled Draco's eyes, urgency Ron misinterpreted. He was coming to make fun of her again, wasn't he? Well Ron wasn't going to let him hurt her again. He hugged Hermione closer to him, and turned her away, bringing them down the corridor on the left. He looked over his shoulder and at Malfoy, sending him a look that screamed _If you want to keep your teeth inside your mouth, you'll stay away from her._

Malfoy, who very much liked his teeth where they already were, backed off, and made a U-turn, heading back to the Slytherin common room where he could drown in his words while others reveled in them.

Draco entered the common room, and went to run up the stairs to the boy's room as fast as he could, but accidently slipped, his knee colliding with the edge of a step, and his head bumping a wall. His injuries were not severe, just a few bruises and an abrasion on his forehead, but he didn't want to go to the hospital wing, so he continued heading up to the boy's quarters. (Though he walked this time.) He stayed up in the bedroom quarters, very much hoping that no one would bother him. Luck was no friend to Malfoy that day, and a few people stopped by.

"Draco!"

Malfoy sat up in his bed, where he had been laying down, looking up at the polished wood that held the top of his bed together. He smoothed back his white – blond hair and rolled to a slumped sitting position, his mouth splitting into a rather large yawn.

"There you are!" Pansy hopped off of Steve Derek's back. Every house's quarters had two different wings, one for the boys and one for the girls. If a footstep of the inappropriate gender hit the stairs running to the bedrooms, the stairs would turn into slides. The students figured a way around this though, if a girl wanted to go up into the boy's wing, she would be carried up by a boy, and vice versa. Pansy continued. "I heard _everything_ about you and Granger!"

Draco gulped. _Everything? _Surely, she couldn't know that he, Draco Malfoy, had developed a crush on Hermione Granger! The thought was even new to him, feeling so foreign in his own brain. Pansy was an aggressive girl, and had been known to lash out when especially angry. Her lips were smiling – but that could be a ruse! Draco took a deep breath to calm himself and said, "What did you hear?"

"That you told her off and made her _cry_!" Pansy cackled, sitting down next to Draco on his sheets. Made her cry. Draco cringed and sighed again, looking away from Pansy. "Good job!" she congratulated him, leaning in closer, and gasped. "Oh!" she touched the abrasion on his forehead. "I thought it was just a rumor! So that Weasley boy did attack you! Well you know what they say, red heads have red – hot tempers." Pansy rubbed his arm the same way you comfort a sobbing child, though Draco was neither of those things. "Poor baby." She whispered.

"Sorry to hear he tackled you, man." Steve rubbed the back of his thick neck. "I mean, who does that, right?"

Draco was still thinking of Hermione. He couldn't believe he made her cry! He had never done that before. Throughout all his years of petty remarks and insults, most people would try and fire them back, sometimes walk away, and sometimes gasp in horror of what he just said, and run away. But he had never said anything mean enough to constitute tears. Never.

And then he thought of Ron, and as far as Draco could see, Ron was the luckiest man in the world. He got to be with Hermione as much as he wanted, and no one thought anything of it due to their friendship. One day, their friendship could bud into something more and it would be natural, and in all honestly, a little anticipated by either side. He could hug Hermione, hold her when she was sad, and although neither of them probably thought nothing of it, Draco would have killed to have a day in Ron's shoes. Without really listening to what Pansy was cooing to him, or what Steve was mumbling, Draco croaked out, "I hate him…"

"Who? Ron?" Pansy said. "Well that's understandable. But I wasn't talking about Ron, dear, I was talking about the Granger slut. Now-"

Draco cut her off. "Don't _call_ her _that_!"

Pansy was confused. "Why? You may have had the best, but you don't get the last word on Granger! Now, like I was saying-"

Draco cut Pansy off again, standing up and strolling over to the tinted green window. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked out of the window. He said slowly, "I think you should leave."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, but surprisingly didn't object. She stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Bye Draco! I'll see you at dinner!" she turned to Steven. "Take me down. I refuse to slide."

Steven shrugged and grumbled in his Neanderthal way, picking up Pansy in the cradle position and descending down the steps.

At the dinner hour, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry walked down to the Hall, as per usual.

"You sure you're okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked, having heard of the Potions incident, although she got the slightly biased but extremely accurate version from Ron, as opposed to the rumors – and – gossip version of the halls.

"I'm fine." Hermione smiled, sending a slight glace up at Ron. "I'm just great. But thank you for asking."

At Hermione nonchalant glance, Ron turned bright red. Ginny raised an eyebrow. Her brother blushed easily, but he didn't seem to have a reason _why_ he blushed this time. Odd.

They sat down at the long golden dining table that was reserved specifically for the Gryffindors. The kids sat down, as more children of all houses filed in and filled the tables. Just like every other night, the ornate silver plates filled with food promptly at six 'o' clock. Dumbledore seemed to have no speech tonight, so the masses just tucked into their meals, filling their plates with turkey, chicken, salad, fruit, and buns.

About a quarter of the way through the meal, and in the middle of an intense discussion of the Chudley Cannon's season between Ron, Ginny, and Harry, Hermione excused herself. "I'll be back in a moment," she said, daintily tapping her mouth with the cloth napkin. "I have to go to the little witches' room."

Ron looked after her for a moment, then stood up, saying "Me too." He took a step, then turned around to shove another heaping spoonful of potatoes in his mouth. He took long strides to catch up with Hermione.

"Since when does Ron go to the girl's room?" Harry asked, laughing.

"We always suspected." Ginny said, taking another bite of chicken. "But he's been acting especially different lately, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"What?" asked Harry confused. "No, I didn't. What's different?"

"It's obvious, really. He likes Hermione." Ginny said, giving Harry one of her famous '_are you kidding me?_' looks, complete with the disbelieving eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What?" No, they're just friends." Harry craned his neck to look for them, but they had already left the Hall.

"Harry, how dense are you?" Ginny laughed. "He's been watching her all night, and turns beet red whenever she so much as looks at him!"

"Really?" Harry asked, still disbelieving. "I don't know. I'm bad at noticing that sort of romantic stuff."

"Obviously." Ginny rolled her eyes. "It took you forever to _finally_ ask me out. I was starting to think you were blind."

Harry snort – laughed into his pudding. "Not entirely. I rarely forget my glasses."

"Doesn't matter." Ginny chuckled. "They're always broken."

Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione sat down again, after arriving at the exact same time. Hermione's hair was ruffled up, and she seemed to sense that, for she ran her fingers through it, trying to smooth all the tangles. Ron folded his hands and raised them to his mouth, as if trying to stifle a giggle.

There were secrets at the Slytherin table as well, and Malfoy didn't care to divulge them with anyone other than Crabbe and Goyle. He tried to be nonchalant about it all, and refused to mention that it was not a Pureblood, much less _Hermione_ _Granger_.

"Hey Crabbe," he began, looking over to the boy on his left, who was occupying himself by stuffing biscuits into his mouth. "When you like a girl, how do you get her to like you back?"

Crabbe looked up. "You like Pansy?" he said, his voice barely audible over the muffler of starch and butter.

But Draco was used to Crabbe talking while pigging out, and could understand him. Crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes, he snapped back. "No I don't like Pansy!" Calming himself, he continued. "But if you were to have any girl, how would you go about getting her?"

Crabbe put down his fifth bun, in order to seriously consider the idea of romantic involvement with anyone. "Love potion." Crabbe stated, and then bent his head back down to continue eating.

Draco pondered it for a moment, but decided that _no_, he had to go about this the old fashioned way. He had to make Hermione Granger really truly fall in love with him, in a way more powerful than any potion. So he turned to Goyle.

"How would you make a girl fall in love with you?" he asked, raising a white – blond eyebrow.

Goyle looked at him for a moment, a dumbfounded look on his face. His mouth was open, squished food covering his tongue. He stood there for a moment, then began to laugh, spraying food on and around his plate. After he was done laughing, he resumed eating. Draco took that as another 'Love Potion' reply. Though Goyle may need to perform a memory charm on whatever witch he was after, just so he could get near her!

So Draco had to go to the master, whether he liked it or not. He waited, sitting on the silk green couch in the Slytherin common room: he needed it to clear out a bit. He kicked up his feet and thumbed through a book, not really reading it, but more using it as a disguise, so he could watch the common room without being approached.

As luck would have it, the Common Room eventually emptied out to five people: Other than himself, two were studying, one was a seventh year who was snoozing in an easy chair, and the other was the person he needed to talk to. He took this as empty enough, and shut the leather – bound book, pushing it to the floor beside him.

He walked up to a young man named David Dash. He was seventeen years old, though still in the Sixth year, and in all of his time at Hogwarts, he had _earned_ his title. He was the only male who could get every and any girl he wanted, without being especially famous, athletic, or good – looking. But Draco had heard the girls in the hallway, cooing over his tan arms, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes. Still, there were many better – looking boys in the year [usually with girlfriends]. Draco needed to know how he did it.

"David?" he asked, approaching the man, who was sitting up on a table, thumbing through a schoolbook. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is. But shoot." David said, reveling a row of straight teeth.

"How do you get a girl?"

David threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, how many times have I been asked that question? A lot. Well, it's usually by losers, but you _may_ have _some_ hope, so I'll give you a few pointers." David patted the chair that was tucked underneath the table. "Sit." Draco did as he was told, and looked up at David, ready to memorize everything the boy said. "Well the most important thing…woo."

"Woo?" Draco asked. "What's woo?"

"You know…woo! Feelings, romantic stuff…you know." David explained. "You pitch some woo, you'll hit a home run every time."

Draco still didn't understand what David was saying, but acted as if he did. "Yes, yes. Woo. Okay. So, how does one 'pitch woo'?"

"Easiest part." David smiled. "Do what she wants. Write poems, enchant flowers, buy her stuff. Women like the little things. Get he a teddy bear, enchant it to say 'I love you' when hugged, and you've got yourself a girl, mate."

"How do you enchant a bear?" Draco said, leaning forward. "Tell me!"

"Whoa, whoa!" David laughed. "No copying! Think of your own gimmick! I'm just saying, that's the type of stuff you do. Sing for her though, you can use that one. Chicks dig singers."

"Okay." Draco said, nodding his head. "I can sing."

"Hey man, I'm headed off to bed. Catch you later." David Dash slid himself off the table and swaggered up the stair, snapping his fingers.

Draco leaned back in his chair. He had to find some way to pitch woo. He had to go to bed, even thinking about such a feat was exhausting.

Hermione too was in bed, but she was nowhere near exhausted. Quietly, she dug around in her trunk, determined to find her favorite Muggle romance book. She didn't have to look hard. She had read it, cover to cover, last week.

She ran her finger along the short but thick spine. There were so many indents, from parts that Hermione had read again and again, hurriedly reading it to find out how it ended, though she already knew, then taking a deep breath and reading the entire page over again.

She cracked open the book to page 147, her favorite page. The short section was nearly about to fall out. Hermione would fix it, but come next month, it would be nearly broken again. She smoothed the yellowing pages and began to read.

_He smiled at her, his wet ginger hair plastered to his forehead, covering a bit of his left blue eyes. Softly, she lifted a hand and pushed it out of his eye, biting her lip, hoping he wouldn't think anything of it. Though secretly, she wanted him to notice her intentions. She didn't have to wish any longer, for he did._

Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled. It was the paragraph right before the big kiss, her favorite part. She smiled a little to herself. Knowing that she had lived part of a romance novel was so much better than just reading them. Her thoughts turned to Ron, she opened her eyes and looked down at the book, beginning the paragraph again.


	4. Advice

**I'm really sorry it took me a pretty long time to update, but I've been working on a short story I'm submitting, I was away at a place without internet for about three days, that slowed my update speed down A LOT, not to mention back – to – school work, and my summer homework :/ [I swear, summer homework is the invention of the devil.] So I'm updating as much as I can, and I hope you'll enjoy the chapter! Please review, and tell me what you think! Thank you for all the kind reviews I got, and keep 'em coming! Love you all!**

Hermione woke up in what most people would consider an odd position; laying face - down on a book. But this was not the first time this has happened to her, as much as she wished that it was. She felt small rays of sun poking through the slits in her bed curtains. She groaned rolling over on to her back and rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

She rolled out of bed and looked at the clock, gasping. She slept through breakfast! Thank goodness it was Saturday. Oh, but it was almost eleven 'o' clock! She slipped into the first thing she could find: a pair of silver jeans and a light blue T-shirt. She looked in the mirror, to make sure the ink didn't rub off on her skin again, but instead saw that the book had left an imprint on her forehead. She cursed but tried to smooth it out, failing in the process. She ran a brush through her hair a few times, in order to somewhat calm the frizz, and hopped down the stairs, to go looking for Ron and Harry.

She quickly hopped down the stairs, and caught sight of Ron's messy red hair almost immediately. She called out for him. "Ron!" she said.

"Hermione!" he said, flipping shut the book he was absently flipping through. Hermione smiled when she saw that it was _Hogwarts: A History_. He had been trying to read it; for her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and continued. "There you are! I was looking for you all morning, but Ginny said you were still sleeping. I wanted to check and make sure you were, you know, okay, but the stairs turn into a slide whenever I try to climb them. And I tried three times!"

Hermione laughed and hugged Ron good morning. "It was nothing, I just overslept. So what do you want to do?"

"What'd you do?" Ron asked, concern flooding his voice, as he gingerly touched the dent in Hermione's forehead left from the book.

Hermione was confused for a minute, forgetting her little mishap, but a quick touch to her forehead brought back the memories. "Oh!" she exclaimed. She giggled a little. "I fell asleep on a book." She shrugged, her cheeks turning only the slightest shade of pink.

"Well," Ron smiled. "You still manage to look pretty, even with that weird dent – thing on your forehead."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow and played the sentence back in her mind. _Weird dent -thing?_ "I'm…going to take that one as a complement." She said, nodding a little.

"Oops." Ron muttered, realizing that could be taken as an insult, as well as the complement that he intended it to be. "Sorry." He said sincerely, biting the corner of his lower lip.

Hermione smiled. "So…what do you want to do until lunch?"

Ron shrugged leading her towards the door. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Anything!" Hermione flipped her hands.

Ron gave a coy smile, and held Hermione tighter. "_Anything?_"

Hermione stopped in her tracks and gave Ron a semi – sarcastic, semi – approving look. "Maybe." She smiled, just as coyly as he had. "You'll have to wait and see." She said in a sing song voice. Smiling a little, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the portrait hole. "Let's go for a walk."

Ron rolled his eyes but complied, pulling Hermione back to him, but leading them both out of the room and outside to the grounds. They walked by the lake, and saw a little bit of the giant squid.

Hermione shuttered a little. "First year, I had a dream that that thing was going to eat me alive. I heard squishing noises outside, but didn't pay attention. It walked up to my bed and one bite later, I was gone. I've been terrified of it ever since."

"Don't worry." Ron smiled. "It's a boy. It couldn't get up to your bedroom without the stairs turning into slides."

Hermione laughed and kissed Ron softly, as a reward for making her laugh.

"Finally!" Ron whispered without thinking, kissing her back even harder.

Hermione smiled against his lips and went to kiss him again, but they were interrupted by giggling. They broke apart and turned to see a group of four 1st year girls, their hair in matching pigtails, standing by the edge of the lake, pointing, giggling, and whispering to each other through cupped hands.

"I hope the giant squid gets them." Ron griped, sitting up a bit.

"Oh…"Hermione said her embarrassment showing by the pink in her cheeks. "We are outside, aren't we?"

"Yeah… let's go inside!" Ron exclaimed. He stood up, trying to take her with him.

"No," Hermione sighed, slowly standing up. "We don't have anywhere to go."

Ron got in closer to her. "Room of Requirement?"

Now, even the most conservative of lovers deserve a few moments by themselves. So let's give Ron and Hermione a few moments alone. So while they are enjoying each other's presence, let us go to Draco, as he attempts to learn to pitch woo.

"I'm not saying you're a girl!" Draco insisted, hands clenched in fists.

"Yes you did!" Crabbe insisted. "You said 'If you were a girl, what would you like to hear?'"

"I said 'if', IF!" Draco shouted back. "Though you're certainly as emotional as one…"

"Oh…" Crabbe said, his little piggy mouth opening to form an 'o'. "I didn't understand."

"Yeah, what else is new?" Draco retorted, turning away from Crabbe to face Goyle. "So Goyle," he began again, knowing that there was no way Goyle had processed the conversation happening next to him. "Goyle." He smiled.

"Yes?" Goyle replied in his Neanderthal voice.

"So I like a girl." Draco began, a snooty tone seeping into his voice. "And while she _probably_ likes me back, I need to make sure it's a definite thing. So I went to – urm, I _did some thinking_, and realized that I had to, oh, how did, uh,_ I_ put it? Oh yes. I have to 'pitch some woo'."

"What's woo?" Goyle asked, scrunching his face together and looking up, as if the answer was written on the ceiling.

"Woo." Draco said, standing up from the green silk couch. He smoothed his combed – back hair, straightened his robes, put his hands behind his back, and continued while pacing back and forth. "Crabbe, Goyle, both you listen, and both you listen well. Woo is simple, dear Goyle and Crabbe. It means you do a bunch of sweet little things for a girl, like singing, my idea, or enchanting stuffed bears. And then she has no idea what to except fall in love with you. That's why it works."

"Oh!" Crabbe and Goyle said, nodding their fat heads. "That makes sense. So who do we pitch the woo to?"

"No, you idiots!" Draco snapped, coming to a standstill and facing his minions. "_You_ aren't pitching the woo, no one likes _you_! _I'm_ pitching to woo, _I'm_ the one who wants a girlfriend!"

"Sorry." Both the boys mumbled like trained monkeys, looking down at their laps.

"Good." Draco snapped, and went to continue. "Now I like a girl, _and she shall remain nameless_, but I need to make sure she is head over heels in love with me before I go to ask her out or whatever." Draco's insecurity came through a little, as his voice wavered, but he cleared his throat and resumed his position. As usual, Crabbe and Goyle noticed nothing.

"I know what to do!" Crabbe exclaimed, his face lighting up at the thought that he could possibly have an idea, as he threw his hand into the air like an eager schoolboy.

Draco's own face lit up as he realized that Crabbe had an idea! After all these years, Crabbe finally thought of something!

Crabbe stammered a little, excitement taking over his voice. "Okay, okay, I know what to do!"

"Well tell me!" Draco shouted, glad the common room was empty. Other people could not hear him actually taking advice from _Crabbe_ and _Goyle_!

"Okay, well this is a good idea. I know, because I remembered it. I heard it a while ago, maybe last month? Somewhere around there."

"Yes, yes, continue!" Draco pressed, sitting down on a coffee table and leaning forward, gripping his knees too hard, as if it was a release for all of his excess energy. "Go on!"

"Okay, it's foolproof." Crabbe insisted, smiling and leaning forward. "You have to, oh, how did he put it? Oh yeah. You have to _pitch woo_."

Goyle shouted out and high – fived Crabbe, as the two sat on the couch laughing.

Draco slumped on the coffee table. _Is he kidding me? _

"You don't get it." Crabbe concluded by Draco's silence. "Well pitching woo means that you-"

"I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!" Draco yelled, slamming his fists down on the coffee table. "_I'M THE ONE WHO TOLD YOU WHAT IT MEANS_!"

"So that's where I heard it!" Crabbe guffawed.

Draco leaned back and exhaled loudly.

"I can't listen to this." A voice came out, from a large emerald chair in front of the fire.

Draco turned around as he heard the sound of a book shouting. Apparently the common room was not quite as empty as he thought it was. He gritted his teeth, and hoped to god it wasn't anyone who had a big mouth. He didn't need anything from this conversation getting out and around the school.

The green chair in front of the fire was pushed back, and a person stood up and walked around it. This person had long, pin – straight, white blond hair that fell down to their back. This person wore long flowing black robes, and had light brown eyes. This person had a big mouth and a vexing personality.

This person was Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy!" Draco gulped, standing up from the coffee table and wheeling around, as if he could cover up the fact that Crabbe and Goyle were there at all, much less his advisors.

"Oh all people to talk to," Pansy began, slowly walking over to where Draco stood, behaving very much like a snake about to attack. "You pick _them_?" She lifted an elegant finger and pointed to Crabbe and Goyle as they sat there, guffawing.

Draco was at a loss for words, stammering "I –I - I"

Pansy took this as her sign to continue. "You have literally hundreds of girls in this school, dozens in your own Slytherin house, and you pick your advisors to be the two _stupidest_ guys in school?"

"Well who else do I talk to?" Draco snapped, temporally forgetting his cloak of arrogance, his 'I – know – everything conceited personality'. "Everyone else would just laugh at me."

Pansy stuck out her lower lip, and tried to make her cold brown eyes as warm, caring, and understand as possible. "_It's_ okay, Draco! _I'll_ understand." She tucked his white – blond hair behind his ear and touched his cheek.

Draco glared at her a little, but decided that he needed her advice. "Fine." He said, snapping a little. "What should I do to get the girl I love?"

"Well," Pansy smiled and slipped her bony arm through his arm. "Let's take a walk, first. We need some privacy."

Draco sighed and complied, letting her lead him out of the portrait hole.


	5. She Knows

"Just give me one moment." Pansy said, trying to be charming but coming off as sarcastic. "Wait out here, I'll be as quick as I possibly can." With her best smile, she ducked into the women's room.

_Okay, Pansy, breathe. _She thought to herself, taking in gulps of air. _So it's Draco Malfoy. So what? He's just another boy, regardless of the fact that he might just be about to confess his love for you._

Pansy walked over to the mirror and turned, looking at her profile. _Don't get ahead of yourself, girl. He might not like you, it could be someone else. _Pansy sighed a little, leaning forward on the sink and looking deep into her own eyes.

_But then again, he could like me! Well and why not? I'm thin, pretty, part of Slytherin, and with powerful parents! There's no reason why he shouldn't love me! _She lightly touched her own face, looking closer at her pores. _Dammit, I need to know NOW!_

She wheeled around. Of all the days to not bring her makeup bag! She could summon it! Wait, no, Draco might see that…but he surely would not notice a simple comb! "_Accio comb!" _She whispered with a light flick of her wand. She heard it rushing towards her, and saw it slip itself from underneath the door and up into her hand.

"Excellent!" she exclaimed. She washed it in the sink to get rid of any germs [Pansy was a bit afraid of germs]. She flicked it a few times to get rid of extra moisture, but kept it damp, for that helped tame flyaways. She ran it through her hair to get out the tangles, and was pleased to find that there were few. Just like always, though, for her hair was thin, straight, flat, and the exact color of a peeled banana.

She pinched her cheeks for some color, and vigorously ran her finger along her lips, causing the blood to rush to her lips, making them darker. She sucked in her non-existent stomach and stood up straighter, for she read in _Pretty Purebloods _that it makes you look thinner.

Pushing open the heavy door, she was elated to find that Draco stood waiting for her, his head facing the ground and hands jammed in his pockets. She walked up to him, and in an effort to be flirty, she pushed his bangs out of his eyes. They were getting long. Sort of cute, but once she was his girlfriend, she's have them cut.

"Now Draco," she began, threading her arm through his and pressing herself closer to him. "What is it you had to talk to me about?" She batted her dark eyelashes at him and then opened her eyes even wider, to make them prettier. Draco thought she looked a bit like a house elf.

"Well, uh, uh, uh…" Draco stammered._ How on earth was he supposed to tell Pansy, of all people, that he liked Hermione! Pansy would surely tell everyone that, and Hermione would be scared off! He had to find some way to phrase this so she wouldn't be upset! Oh no, how could he possibly do this?_

Meanwhile, Pansy was doing some thinking of her own. _He likes me! Look, he's stuttering! Oh, I have to be more tempting, make him confess his love for me – and now! _She leaned more into him, angling her torso towards him. As she walked, she swung her hips more, causing her abdominal to move to the right and left. She looked up and him and squeezed his arm a little. _There! If that doesn't make him fall crazy in love, nothing will._

Malfoy gulped and continued. "I like someone." He stated, as if it wasn't already the reason she was out her, clutching to him.

"Oh Draco," she cooed. "I know that! Silly boy." She spoke softer than normal, almost as if she was whispering. "But does she, _this girl you like_, know?"

"I don't think so." Draco sighed. "But I don't know how to tell her."

"Oh," Pansy said, twirling her long blond hair around her finger. "I think you can just tell her. I'm _sure_ she'll say yes."

"But I'll make a fool out of myself!" Draco said, opening up a little bit and spilling his feelings a little.

"Oh, no you won't." Pansy insisted. "Girls do all sorts of things in order to make boys ask them out, which is just want you're trying to do! I mean, Gwendolyn, she's a year younger than you, spends hours each night trying to pick out an outfit. Lucille, she's in our year, she takes an hour and a half each morning just putting on makeup." She flipped her hair. "And I dyed my brown hair blond because my older sister is blond, and she gets all the boys. She's the one who told me 'gentlemen prefer blondes'. Ergo, I'm blond." She shrugged as if this was no big deal and giggled a little.

"But _girls_ don't have to ask _guys_ out!" Draco insisted. "And, god, I love her!" he sighed, turning a little away from Pansy. He couldn't believe he was opening up like this, but it was so nice to have someone to talk to, even though he still had to watch what he said, or else everything he said, his crush on _Granger_ –er_, Hermione_ would be all over the school.

"You _love_ her?" Pansy practically squealed in joy. "Are you sure you don't just like her? Is it a crush, or do you want to, like, _marry_ her?" she crossed her fingers on her right hand, tucking it behind her back. Oh please, let it be love!

"No, I am pretty sure, I mean, I think…" Draco began wavering. "No." he said more resolved, straitening his back. "I know. I love her."

Pansy practically jumped out of her skin, tightening her grip on Draco. "I think," she began, smiling a bit. "I think you need to show her that you love her." With that she whipped around and pressed herself up against him, kissing him full on the lips.

At first, Draco kissed her back, as if all he needed at the moment was love. Then he seemed to realize that he had no feelings for Pansy whatsoever. He pushed her away.

"PANSY!" he yelled, pushing his shaggy white-blond bangs out of his eyes and staggering backwards. "What on earth are you doing?" He vigorously wiped his mouth on his sleeve like an angry child who had just been kissed by his mother.

"You're _welcome_!" she snapped back, leaning forward to get closer to him without actually moving forward.

"No, what? What did you do that for? How could you possibly think that was a good thing to do?" Draco said, flabbergasted.

"You like me! You told me!" Pansy screamed back at him.

"I don't like you!" Draco yelled, moving even farther back, bumping into the wall behind him. "I never said I did!"

"Yes you DID!" Pansy screamed back even louder, enunciating every word and showing off her many years of experience as a right-fighter. "You said that you like her, no, you said _love_ her! You were a bit afraid of her, and why else would you have asked me out here? Why would you have opened up to _me_, if you didn't like _**me**_?"

"I don't like you!" Draco insisted again, as Pansy approached him, walking slowly.

"Oh yeah?" Pansy said, tilter her head up to meet his, standing practically on top of him. "Then who is she?" she said, her voice hissing and deadly.

"It's not you." Draco insisted, refusing to mention who it really was.

"Tell me!" Pansy shrieked. "Or else I'm going to _assume_ it is me!"

"Hermione!" Draco blurted out without thinking.

Pansy gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. She staggered backwards, almost tripping over her high heeled shoes. "_Hermione_?" she whispered, momentarily taking her hand off of her mouth. "You, _you of all people_, like _Hermione_?" she took a small step forward, raising an eyebrow. "No, no, it's more than that. You said you _loved_ her!"

Pansy's first instincts took over: the ones telling her to run off and tell everyone, the ones telling her spread the gossip as quickly as she could. A coy smile on her lips, she turned and ran off, the click-clacks that her four-inch heels made becoming quieter and quieter as she walked down the hall.

As she had turned the corner and got closer to the common room, she started to realize that she couldn't tell people what she had found out. If it got around the school, it would be incredibly embarrassing for Draco, and certainly bad for his reputation. But it would be worse for Pansy. If Hermione ever got the idea that Draco was in love with her, then she would surely go running to him! He was the most fantastic guy in the school! There's no way she would, or even could, do anything else.

If she said nothing to anyone else, the Hermione would never know! Draco certainly wasn't going to tell her, he was too chicken, _right_? He still had that fear of rejection. So if she kept her mouth shut then all would be okay. Knowing that Pansy liked him already, he would surely come back to her, just for the fact that he would know there would be no chance of dismissal!

So, as much as she didn't want to, she'd have to bide her time. They'd be together, they would…

…

Hermione laughed a little at Ron's joke, and leaned into his chest, which was a surprisingly difficult feat due to the fact that they were walking. She squeezed his hand tighter, and looked up at him to smile. He made eye contact with her and smiled back.

"Oh my God…" Hermione heard Harry whisper, a bit of annoyance seeping into his hushed tone.

"Oh, grow up, mate." Ron said, nudging his best friend with his free hand.

"Well I'm very happy for you," Harry said. "but do you have to be so…giggly? All the time? I mean-"

Harry was silenced by Ginny's well-placed elbow. "Shut up!" she hissed. "Let them be happy. I'm sure we were the exact same way."

Harry sighed loudly and kept walking, slipping his arm around his girlfriend and pulling her closer for comfort. Harry forgot about Ron and Hermione's relationship [which he did support, but it was going to take some getting used to before he could be in their presence without getting some weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.] and looked down at his own little redheaded girlfriend. In fairness, though, Ron probably didn't like to see his best friend with his little, and only, sister.

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by Ginny's voice. She mumbled, "Uh, oh. Trouble's coming." She pursed her lips together and Harry looked up, seeing Malfoy walk towards them with a purpose, swinging his arms and walking in a way that looked absolutely demented.

"What does he want?" Ron spat. He already hated Malfoy, but after everything he did to Hermione in Potions, he could barely stand the sight of him.

Hermione sighed and twirled her hair around her finger. "He probably wants to make fun of my hair." She sighed, moving closer to Ron.

"Yeah he won't get the chance." Ron griped.

"I need to talk to you." Draco said hurriedly, grabbing Hermione's arm and yanking her away from Ron.

"Hey!" Hermione pulled back, but Draco just kept yanking her forward. He was slowed by her resistance, but not stopped.

He pulled her into a classroom, and whispered _'Sela!' _causing a brick wall to be formed behind them. '_Sticki_' he mumbled again, causing Hermione to be rooted to the spot.

"Malfoy, let me go!" she yelled at him, trying to struggle against the curse but failing.

"No!" he said. "I have some things to say, and you're not leaving until I get to say them!"

"If you're going to make fun of me again, you might as well let me go! I know I'm not perfect, Malfoy! I know!"

"Please, call me Draco." He pressed, lightly touching her arm.

"No!" Hermione yelled. "Is this your idea of a joke!" she tried to fumble around for her wand, but she could not unstick any of her fingers, or her arm, for that matter, to get it out of her pocket. If only she could reach her wand! She'd transform him into something worse than a weasel, that's for sure.

"No, Hermione, my love, please!" Draco insisted, coming closer. "Do not struggle! It's not a joke, I'm being completely serious here with you!"

"Did you just call me your _love_?" Hermione practically screamed. "Malfoy, what the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Listen to me!" Draco pleaded. "I love you! I don't know why, but the heart wants what it wants, and my heart wants you! I need you to love me back! I beg of you!"

"NO!" Hermione yelled. "I don't know what fiendish plan you're trying to carry out, but _I love_ _Ron_! That's why I'm dating _him_! He's kind and sweet and fun and wonderful to be around. You, on the other hand, are cruel, manipulative, and evil!"

Just then, the wall Draco had created was broken through, sending shrapnel, dust, and other debris flying everywhere. Emerging from the dust were Ginny, Harry, and Ron, who was holding out his wand. Ginny and Harry pulled out theirs.

"All right, where is he?" Ron yelled, rubbing the dust out of his eyes.

"I can't see!" Hermione yelled. Ron, I'm on the far left, unstick me!" she coughed a little.

Seconds later, she was freed. After stretching her fingers to make sure they all worked, she whipped out her wand. "Where is he?" she muttered. "I'll turn him into a toad!"

As the dust settled down, the four teens looked around to see that Draco Malfoy was no longer there.

**Well normally I put the author's notes at the beginning, but this more is more fit for the end. Okay, this is a Ron x Hermione story. That much you should all know by now. If you're desperately hoping that Draco and Hermione will fall in love….yeah, go somewhere else. That's not gonna happen, but thanks for reading anyway. So here's the question. Draco's not going to get the girl he wants the most, but I haven't decided yet if he'll end up alone. Tell me if you think he should end up alone, end up with Pansy, or end up with someone else I haven't even thought of shipping him with. This story will still be surrounding the Ron x Hermione couple, but I might stick his little relationship in at the end. If you guys wand Draco x Pansy, well I have a little extra thing I'd put in at the end, but I'd know what to do. Thanks for reading, and please review and tell me! :D Love y'all!**


	6. Draco: The Future JellyBoy

**Disclaimer: for this chapter, and all past and future chapters, I have not owned Harry Potter. Only in my dreams. Sigh…**

**Oh, so I doubt you care, but I'm writing one of those mock – fairytale things that isn't really a fairytale, but is structured like one, know what I mean? Well, does anyone know if there's any place where I can post it? Because I'm pretty proud of it so far…XD**

**Anywho, to the story! Love you all, and please review!**

As the clock stuck eleven, the fire finally extinguished. With a whisper and a flick of her wand, Hermione made the fire roar once more.

The conversation paused a little so Ron smiled a little at her, but he resumed his sentence. "…by far the best summer of my life." Hermione laughed a little. Ron exhaled loudly and wrapped his lanky arms around Hermione, pulling her closer. "Okay, so are you ready to talk about it?" Ron asked.

"About what?" Hermione said, faking ignorance. She looked up at Ron, but refused to make eye contact in case it gave her away.

"You know, today with Malfoy…" Ron said. He exhaled again. "I don't even know what he was doing. It was like kidnapping, but I wouldn't call it that, for he only took you to the nearest room." His face darkened a little. "He didn't touch you, did he?"

"No, thank goodness. He just stuck me to the spot. I think that was so I wouldn't kill him." Hermione said darkly. "And by the time I was able to, he was gone."

"What did he want to do to you then? If he wanted to make fun of you, he could have just waited until potions." Ron remarked. "Like Snape would have stopped him. He hasn't yet."

"He just wanted to…talk." Hermione said. It wasn't a lie, Draco did just want to talk, but she wasn't up for telling Ron exactly _what_ he wanted to talk about. She feared for Ron's temper. The common room might get smashed to pieces.

"_Talk_?" Ron said, confusion saturating his voice. "Since when has the little git ever wanted to just _talk_? Hermione, what did he _do_ to you? Did he threaten you? 'Cause you know he can _never_ hurt you, your bloody _cat_ could take him down. The only real muscle is in Crabbe and Goyle, and you can just distract them with a few cupcakes."

Hermione laughed a little at the thought of Crookshanks tearing Malfoy to pieces. "He didn't touch me Ron."

"I know _that_!" Ron said impatiently. "What I _don't_ know, is what he said that has you upset."

"I'm not upset!" Hermione insisted.

"Fine, you're not upset." It was clear Ron did not believe a word he just said, but he needed to be getting along with Hermione in order to get the whole story. "So if it's nothing to be upset about, then tell me what he said to you."

"Okay, but don't get upset." Hermione asked him, biting her lower lip.

Now the phrase 'don't get upset' is an odd one within itself. Whenever someone asks you to not get upset, your stomach drops and your heart begins to hammer, for you know that you about to be given a reason to be upset. Naturally, you promise to stay calm, because you just want to know exactly _what_ happened that might cause you to become upset. Now, you _know_ you're going to be upset, and the person asking you to not get upset _knows_ you're going to become upset, but the phrases are just a formality, a meager gate against the floods of anger about to come rushing through.

"I promise." Ron said, just like everyone else who was ever asked this phrase.

"He said he loved me." Hermione said softly, leaning away from Ron, anticipating a flood of anger.

And, boy, how she got one.

"WHAT?" Ron screamed, standing up from the couch, knocking Hermione a little to the side. "WHAT DID HE SAY TO YOU?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked down, knowing that Ron heard her loud and clear.

"THAT STUPID LITTLE GIT! HE SPENDS SIX YEARS TORTURING YOU TO NO END, MAKING FUN OF YOUR EVERY FEATURE, AND NOW HE MAGICALLY _LOVES_ YOU? WHAT THE _HELL_ IS HE PLAYING AT?" Ron yelled, wheeling around just looking for something to throw.

"Ron, hush!" Hermione pleaded, tugging on the sleeve of his sweater. "There's loads of people upstairs, they'll hear you for sure."

"Well, GOOD!" Ron yelled, though slightly quieter. "Let's make a mob! I'll kill him! We'll kill him! The git!" he sat back down next to Hermione, forcing her to make eye contact with him. "Tell me, honestly, did he touch you at all, in any way?"

Hermione gulped and picked the entirely wrong moment to be honest. "Well…he did brush my arm. Just a little though, mind you."

Ron's face turned red, the blood rushing to his face and creeping up his cheeks to the very tips of his ears. The blood rushed down his arms and to the tips of his ears, making himself look very much like some sort of elongated tomato. When he spoke, he did not yell, but rather spoke very, very softly, as if raising his voice would trigger an uncontrollable explosion. "So… he…. did… touch….you." he flexed his fingers and clenched his hands into fists. "I'm going to … kill him. Yes, yes. Smart move, Ron. Kill the weasel." He began to walk towards the portrait hole, as if he was going to go hunt down Malfoy and kill him.

"Ron, stop it!" Hermione said, standing up and rushing over to him, pulling him back from the portrait hole and spinning him around to face her. "You listen, and you listen good! He didn't hurt me, and while I'd rather be touched by the devil himself than by Malfoy, the bottom line is _he did not hurt me_! You broke through the wall before he had a chance to do anything other than tell me of his … feelings… and you _already stopped him_, Ron! So you don't need to kill him."

"But I want to…" Ron muttered, turning his head to look at the portrait hole.

"Yes, yes." Hermione muttered, using her pointer finger to direct his attention back to her. She smiled at him. "But you've _wanted to_ 'since 1st year. But we don't kill him, not yet, okay?"

"Fine." Ron grumbled like a child who had just been refused a cookie. He shoved his hands in his pockets and grumbled as he walked over to the couch. "One thing, though, Hermione. Please, just tell me everything he said."

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione moaned. "I can't possibly remember all of that!"

"Close your eyes." Ron said. Hermione obliged. Ron took her hand in his and continued. "Okay, as I speak, picture this in your head. Okay?"

"Okay." Hermione agreed, shutting her eyes even tighter.

"Okay, we're walking down the hall. I'm holding your hand." Ron began.

Hermione smiled.

"We're talking; about nothing really. School, friends, family. Then suddenly, Malfoy, the git, comes running up to us. Before you even know what's happening, he's grabbed your arm, and he's pulling you away from us." Hermione tensed up and Ron paused for a moment, letting the tension decrease before continuing. "He takes you into the nearest classroom, and seals the door. What does he do?"

"Curses me." Hermione whispered.

"What curse?" Ron asked, trying to keep as much anger out of his voice as possible, though it was not easy.

"I didn't hear what he whispered, and many curses work the same way, or so close it's hard to tell the difference without study." Hermione admitted, her eyes scrunched tight.

"Okay, what did the curse do?" Ron pressed.

"It stuck me in the position I was in. I couldn't reach my wand. I couldn't hex him into a toad." Hermione whined.

Ron smiled at her, but Hermione didn't see that. "Then what happened?" he whispered.

"Then he started babbling like a moron. He said 'oh, Hermione, love, call me Draco'" she said in an obnoxious drawl, dragging out the word 'Draco'.

"He called you 'love'?" Ron said, his temper getting the best of him again. Of course that's the only word he'd hear.

"Well, um, uh, yes." Hermione stuttered, once again foolishly choosing to tell him the truth.

Ron stood up again. "By any chance did he mention what if his favorite flavor of jelly?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Um, no. Why?"

"'Cause when I'm done with him, that's what his legs will be made of."

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, following her boyfriend as he headed towards the portrait hole again. "You promised you wouldn't kill him!"

"I never promised that!" Ron insisted, pushing open the portrait and walking out to the corridor.

Hermione followed him out, rushing after him. "Ron!" she yelled. "Stop!"

"Out after bedtime I see!" One of the women in a portrait called, swinging a bottle of wine at them. "Tsk! Tsk!"

"Ron, stop!" Hermione said, chasing after him, which was especially difficult for one of Ron's strides took two of hers, and Ron was walking faster than usual.

"We can talk when Malfoy's made of jelly!" Ron insisted, speeding up his pace.

Hermione sighed and sprinted after him, pulling back on one of his arms. "_Really_!" she put both hands on the either side of his face and brought his head down to hers.

When she broke away from him, he sighed and blew his bangs out of his eyes. "Fine. We'll go back to the common room."

Hermione laughed and threaded her hand through his.

Very quietly, Ron whispered, "…too persuasive for her own good…"

**Sorry for the semi – shorter chapter, it was just a natural break in the story.**

**Okay, so keep saying who Draco should be shipped with! I'm considering like, three, different people, and I'm sure there's someone out there he'd be PERFECT with, that I haven't even thought of. So please tell me, and please review! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Choice

**Hey, guys! I'm SO SO SO SO SO VERY INCREDIBLY SORRY that I haven't updated in like FOREVER. I'm working on my other in-progress story, Courtship. You read it? Love you! Not your type of book? That's fine as well. I'm glad you're still reading this one. Well, I'll try my best to make the next update, which I'm planning to be more excellent than this one, is like mind-blowing. The story is sort of coming to the end, not really. Review please, even though you guys have been great about it! I love you so much, and thanks for reading! :D**

**[p.s. The three options I'm thinking of are at the end of the chapter, right by the review button, hint hint hint ;)]**

"Ugh." Hermione grunted, sitting up a little. She pushed back her fluffy brown hair and rolled onto her stomach. She placed a hand on her stomach and felt that her normally flat stomach had distended out a little. She pushed at it a little, as if she could force it back into itself. Sighing, she accepted that she couldn't and that it would deflate on its own time. _Stupid bloating… _she thought, rummaging through her trunk for something with an elastic waistband.

Eventually she pulled out a red and gold plaid skirt; that's the reason she bought it – Gryffindor colors. She tucked a white button-down shirt into it and put on her robes. She gave herself a once-over in the full-length mirror by Lavender's bed.

She looked terrible. Her stomach had puffed out, stretching the shirt and causing it to wrinkle. Sometime during the night her skin had broken out, causing her forehead to bump and have a slightly pink tint. The rest of her face was as pasty as always, with the exception on her nose, which was slightly sunburnt. Her hair frizzed and puffed, and Hermione knew running a brush through it only made it worse.

Nevertheless, ugly did not substitute for sick, so Hermione had to leave the girl's dormitory and go to classes. She straightened her robes. She wasn't going to be able to make this work, was she? She bit her lip and looked over at Lavender's side table. She was gone, down in the commons or whatever, and everyone else in her part of the girl's dormitory was either sleeping or downstairs.

Hermione looked at all of the makeup piled on Lavender's table. There was everything! Eye shadow, lipstick, eye liner, blush, powder, and dozens of things Hermione had never even heard of! Her hand hovered over a tube of lipstick for a moment, but she pulled it back. No. That was stealing. Besides, was it even sanitary to share makeup with someone?

Oh, it didn't even matter! She wasn't taking that much, right? Just a little. She doesn't wear a lot of makeup anyway, but she knew how to put it on, after watching her mother do it for so many years.

Hermione picked up the lightest lipstick she could find and swept it over her lips. _That's lighter than my normal lip color! _She thought, and swept a dark pink on over it. Next she took the eye shadow brushes and swept blue and brown eye shadow on her lips. She blended in some blush, and covered her forehead and chin with powder.

She stood up straighter and tried to suck her stomach in as much as she could, which wasn't a lot. She admired herself from several angles, and eventually slumped down and came to the obvious conclusion: she looked even worse.

Putting Lavender's makeup back where she found it, she went off to the bathroom and washed all the makeup off her face. Looking in the mirror, she promised herself to let _someone else_ do her makeup next time. Maybe Ginny.

Ugh. She _still_ didn't feel any better, and there was no delaying it anymore. She walked down the stairs, hoping for as little human interaction as possible today. She turned the corner and entered the common room where, of course, her boyfriend stood. She groaned.

"Hey, beautiful" Ron smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Hermione instantly forgot everything that happened this morning, and hugged her boyfriend good morning. "Mornin'" she mumbled into his hand-knit sweater.

"Ready to go down to breakfast?" he asked, leading them out of the portrait hole.

"Where's Harry and Ginny?" Hermione asked looking around the common room, looking for the couple but not seeing them.

"I don't want to even know…"Ron sighed.

"They'll probably just meet up then." Hermione shrugged.

And she was right. No sooner had Hermione and Ron sat down to breakfast that Harry and Ginny joined them, smiling at each other.

"I don't want to know…" Ron grumbled, filling his mouth with pancakes and butter.

"Good, 'cause I'm not telling!" Ginny smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron paused his chow-fest momentarily. "Never mind. I demand to know now."

Ginny took a bite of fresh pineapple. "Know what?" she said innocently.

Ron narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth as if to say something, but Hermione lightly touched his arm and he went back to his starchy but delicious foods. Hermione licked her thumb and flipped the page, her eyes scanning the pages in front of her.

"Oh, 'Mione!" Ron groaned. "Why are you studying Potions _now_? It's breakfast! We don't even have a test today." He took another bite of food and turned his head again. "Wait, we don't, right?"

"No, Ron." Hermione muttered, pushing her brown hair out of her face.

"Then why are you studying?" Ron asked, stuffing his mouth.

"Because we're making a Wheredom potion today!" Hermione insisted. "I've never made one before, and even though I read this chapter last night, I'm reading it again today."

"A Where-_what_?" Ron asked, scrunching his face together.

"Wheredom! Ron, we were supposed to read this - days ago! A potion that makes people think they're someplace different than where they actually are."

"Oh." Ron shrugged.

"Well we better get to Potions anyway." Harry pointed to his watch, showing that they had about five minutes. Just on time, the food disappeared off the plates, and more students stood up.

Hermione slid her book back into her knapsack, and Ron grumbled that his food was gone. Together, the three teens headed down to the dungeons.

Everyone took their assigned seats, except Draco, who chose to move Crabbe and Goyle to sit behind Hermione as opposed to as far away from her as possible.

"They're planning something." Ron whispered to Harry.

"Watch them." Harry stated, and snuck a peek himself.

"Today class," Snape began his usual drawl, without a 'good morning'. "We will be making a Wheredom potion. Does anyone know the purpose of a Wheredom potion?"

Like usual, Hermione's had shot up into the air.

"Anyone?" Snape asked, surveying the classroom, as if Hermione was nothing but a little speck of dust.

Everyone, though not all at once, turned to look at Draco, sneaking peaks and giving snickers of anticipation. But Draco only said. "I think Hermione knows."

The silence was deafening.

"Yes, Draco." Snape said, a bit of, amusement, to his voice. "I believe she does." He turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, do kindly share the answer."

Hermione smiled a little. "A Wheredom potion makes the person who drinks it believe they're in a different place. It can be anyplace, good or bad. You could be transported to…England, in Christmastide! Or, you could be transported to Nazi Germany. You are not actually in that place or time, but you wouldn't feel otherwise-"

"Oh my God, Granger. Stop talking." Pansy snapped. "We _get_ it! You're a nerd."

Hermione flushed red, with Ron right by her side.

The rest of the class passed surprisingly smoothly. Draco did not provoke her, like he usually did, but rather, he left her alone. By the end of the class, everyone was cleaning up minimal supplies from the potion, not supplies from a fight.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron leaned in and whispered. "You missed a spot."

"Where?" Hermione said, a little panic in her voice.

"Right here." Ron said and pecked her on the lips.

Hermione giggle a little, refusing to let anything more come of it. After all, they were in public. So no matter what she wanted, they would have to wait.

But behind them, the mindset was no so elated. Draco's shoulders slumped, and he exhaled loudly. Was he ever going to get her? Didn't seem likely. Look at them! They're so happy together! It was disgusting. If he was going to do anything, it would have to be done now.

Draco finished cleaning up with the rest of the class, though slower than the others. By the time he was done cleaning up, he was the only one in the room. He sent Crabbe and Goyle ahead of him. He needed to be alone now. He slung his knapsack over his shoulder and walked out of the room.

"Draco!" a high voice snapped, but not in anger.

Malfoy snapped his head around. "Pansy?" he asked. "We're you-you, maybe? Why? Huh?"

"I waited for you." She whispered, walking closer, her hands tucked behind her back.

"Why?" Malfoy uttered.

Instead of responding, Pansy pressed her lips against his.

Instead of resisting, Draco thought of Hermione, and her love of Ron, and that _kiss_.

So he succumbed.

**Okay, so give me your input.**

**Option one: Draco and Pansy [Pansy get preggers? Eh? Possibilty?]**

**Option two: Draco and Luna [not gon' lie, this is pretty cute couple]**

**Option three: Draco and Lavender [Ron's ex-girlfriend, either a relationship to piss Ron off, or a relationship because he actually likes her. Once again, YOU tell ME:D]**

**Okay, so review to give your input, review just because you love the story, review because you have some criticism. But, I'll be updating soon, promise! Love you all! xoxoxo**


	8. Hearts

** You guys, you have no idea how glad I am you don't want a pregnancy. I really didn't either, but not knowing my entire audience, I felt as if I should put it out there. So, you're all a good group of kids, and a great group of readers! :D And no, Hermione is not pregnant. I see teen pregnancy as more of a curse than a blessing, and Ron and Hermione are the heroes! The protagonists! The good guys! They don't deserve that…but I did update sooner, you have to give me that. So review! There's only going to be a few chapters left, so review while you still cannnn:] Whoops, scratch that. This IS the last chapter! Unless, of course, I get a late night revelation or a really good suggestion. Don't count on it though, so review please! :D also, any suggestions for the next story would be greatly appreciated, thank you! I love you guys!**

The fire in the common room burned brightly, for it was quite early in the morning, and the house elves had just started it up, trying to warm the common room before the students awoke. Right now, all the students lay snuggled in their beds, covers pulled up to their chins to keep out the cool night air.

Or at least, most of the students were still in bed. Ron and Hermione sat down in the common room, for both had awoke quite early, for no particular reason other than the fact that they wished to see each other too much, and could not manage to get a good night's rest.

"I have something for you." Ron stated, giving Hermione a crooked, awkward smile.

"You don't have to get me anything!" Hermione said, giving the typical girlfriends response. Naturally, she was intrigued what she was getting, especially when today was not a special day, and did not require a gift of any kind.

"But, I really want to!" Ron smiled, sitting up a little and fishing for something in his right pocket.

He pulled out a ring.

"Ron, what…no! Ron, we're sixteen! Ron!" Hermione said, not sure what to say. Was he _proposing_?

"No, Hermione, no! I don't want to marry you!" Ron assured her, flushing a deep red.

Hermione calmed for a second, then got an offended look on her face.

"No, wait, I phrased that badly." Ron said, waving the hand that wasn't holding the ring. "I _do_ want to marry you, just not now." He held out the ring in front of her face. "That's what this ring is for. I love you, Hermione, and I want to marry you someday, just when we're older. When we've gotten rid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be, er, _Voldemort_. When we're older. But I don't want you to date anyone else, I want you to stay with _me_."

Hermione was silent for a moment, all breath she had knocked out of her by surprise.

"Well…" Ron said, hoping for an answer, shifting in place, for his silence was making him nervous. "Do you…um…"

"Yes!" Hermione blurted out, and then clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing she yelled loud enough to wake up the whole common room.

"You-you will?" Ron said, excitedly. "You mean it?"

"Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?" Hermione asked, smiling back at him.

Ron took her hand and slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly.

…

"I need to talk to her." Draco repeated to himself as he walked down the hall, arms swinging at his sides. Feeling as if he looked awkward, he stuffed his hands in his pocket and continued down the hall. "I need to talk to Hermione."

As luck would have he saw the back of her head, bushy brown hair waving down to the middle of her back.

"HERMIONE!" he yelled down the hallway, as if no one else was possibly standing nearby. Several first years covered their ears, and some of the older kids laughed and pointed at Draco as he broke into a sprint and chased Hermione down the hallway.

Hermione froze for a minute, while her boyfriend turned the brightest shade of scarlet beside her. Sense snapped into the two, and they walked away as quickly as they could without drawing attention to themselves.

Draco did not seem to possess the same shame as the couple, and continued to sprint and scream, despite the fact that he drew enormous attention to himself, and ruined any of his reputation that he possibly had left.

He pushed his way through a group of giggling second-year girls, stepping on the toes of a pigtailed blond one, and pushing the shoulder of a redheaded one, her pink lips opening in annoyance. After he left, they began to gossip, but he did not hear what they said.

How could he? He was too focused.

Eventually he caught up to them, and ran in front of them, blocking their path.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione spat, grabbing Ron's hand in a 'ha! I _still_ don't love you' sort of way.

"I love you." Malfoy said without any introduction, any sort of build-up whatsoever; he just dove into what he exactly had to say. "I love you! I love you! I love you! How many times would you like me to say it? What would you like me to do?"

"I'll tell you what I'd like you to do…" Ron began, but Draco just continued paying him no heed.

"I'll tell everyone, but they know anyway. What have I don't to make you hate me so? Please, just-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Hermione yelled, attracting more stares that Draco got from his sprint down the corridor. "What have you DONE? What HAVEN'T you done? You've teased me, mocked me, bullied me, told me every single one of my faults over and over again until you made me CRY! And now you come waltzing in, once I finally find someone who LOVES me for ME, and you decide that I should be yours. Then you seem to lose your memory, for you cannot even UNDERSTAND what you've DONE! What on earth IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Draco did not seem shaken by Hermione's words. "Wrong with me? 'Mione-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Yeah, don't call her that!" Ron backed her up. "Just leave her alone, you rat!"

"Stop it!" Draco yelled at Ron like an annoyed younger sibling. He turned back to Hermione, trying to block Ron out of his central vision. "Hermione." He stated pointedly, trying to show that he had used her full name, just like her wishes.

"We don't want to talk to you." Hermione snapped, grabbing Ron's hand even tighter and starting to walk away.

Draco, still refusing to give up, walked ahead of them once again, forcing them to stop. "Please, Hermione give us a chance."

"NO!" Hermione yelled. "Malfoy, what's WRONG WITH YOU?" she screamed, tearing her hand away from Ron's in order to enunciate her points with sharp hand gestures. "One, we HATE each other. Two, I HAVE a boyfriend. Three, I have no intention of ending my relationship with said boyfriend. Four, even if I was single, and five hundred, and desperate, and lonely, I STILL WOULDN'T DATE YOU!"

It was over, that much was obvious. That is, to everyone but Draco. It was not some hatred between Mudbloods and Purebloods, or even the fact that Draco's parents were working for the most evil 'man' on the planet.

"…please…" Draco said, as some last ditch attempt to persuade her love.

"No." Hermione stated, raising her left hand in the 'stop, be gone' position.

"What's on your hand?" Draco asked, looking at the thing gold band around her finger.

Hermione smiled. "Ron's ring."

Draco felt as if all his internal organs had plummeted into his stomach. She was wearing his ring? We're they engaged? Married? When, for how long? They had just begun to date! But they had known each other forever…

How could he get her now? She was taken, claimed, was ready to live happily ever after with her little ginger prince. He looked at Ron, right in his eyes, and Ron offered no explanation, but merely a cocky grin.

Draco felt as if he had been punched in the stomach: all the air was knocked out of him. He swallowed, tried to think of something to say, what to do. What did one even do in this sort of situation? He began to gasp quickly, as if about to cry, and knew that it was time to leave.

He took a few steps and turned around, looking Ron in the eyes. "Fine." He stated, his voice quivering a lot less than he thought it was. "You win, Weasley. But treat her right."

Ron said nothing, but gave him a little nod, showing he had every intention to do so.

Draco ran, and ran until he found an empty corridor, somewhere in the back of the school, he turned and collided with a banister, slamming his hands down and breathing heavily, and not just from the running. He bit his lip and blinked rapidly, willing himself to keep the tears inside.

He was too caught up to realize that he was being followed, but nevertheless, he was.

Pansy walked up closer to him, placing one thin leg in front of the other; she was completely silent, with the exception of the light taps of her maroon pumps, which she wore with knit silver socks.

She stopped when she was next to Draco, who gripped the stone ledge with such force that his knuckles turned white. He leaned forward, breathing heavily, as if he was about to cry. However, Pansy could not see if he was actually crying, for his head was dipped forward, with his white-blond hair covering as much of his face as them could. He took a shaky breath, and Pansy felt her heart sink a little in pity.

There was a lot to say. Pansy knew that. Rejection was something quite hard to possess, something hard to accept. Draco had, in all reality, just been told 'no' for the first time in his sixteen year old life.

But Pansy had a clear head; she knew what was best for Draco. She knew all the advice she could give to him, tell him how Hermione was nothing but some worthless Mudblood, not worth his time, energy, or love. She could tell him how _she_ deserved that, and she alone. She would be quite understanding, loving, and loyal, and would stay that way, at least, as long as they were together. Because that's just the type of girl she was.

But she also knew that Draco didn't want to talk right now, couldn't fight, couldn't hear reason, couldn't see the truth; the light. He was too distressed.

So she threaded her thin fingers through his, squeezed his hand slightly, just so he would tilt his head slightly towards her.

Taking advantage of his momentary attention, however little of it she had, she whispered, "We belong together." And looked away, missing the very few tears that slid down Draco's cheeks, dotting the stone banister beneath him.

**In the words of Porky Pig, that's all folks! Well I originally had one more chapter, but decided that I didn't like it, so this is the ending that you get! Yay! :D So, did you like the story overall, like one part, hate all of it? Well review! Constructive advice only helps! Thank you, dear readers, and gorgeous reviews, and have a lovely night!**


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